


In What Time Remains

by CelticKnot



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 02:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13514991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticKnot/pseuds/CelticKnot





	In What Time Remains

Garrus Vakarian cursed himself for waiting.

What else could he have expected, staying holed up belowdecks all the time? He’d spent all his time on the _Normandy SR-1_ tinkering with the Mako, and now he did the same with the SR-2’s cannons. He thought about her all the time, planned out exactly what he would say to her, promised himself that _this time, I’ll do it._ But then she would finally come see him, and his heart would race, his head would spin, and all of his carefully rehearsed declarations would dissolve into smoke. Every time she came by, he would make the same lame excuse about “calibrations,” promise himself _next time,_ and Rhiannon Shepard would go on her way, completely oblivious.

She had begun to visit him less and less often of late—and the way he’d been acting, he couldn’t really blame her. But then the gossip had started among the rest of the crew: about how much time Shepard was spending in the Life Support bay, about the _advice_ she’d gotten from Dr. Solus, about the pet name Thane Krios had given her. And Garrus knew he’d lost her again.

But, Spirits help him, he still loved her. And he wasn’t about to watch someone else hurt her the way Kaidan had.

Not that he had any reason to believe Thane would do something like that, but he hardly knew the man. There was something about Thane that made Garrus unaccountably nervous. Maybe it was because the drell could give him a run for his money in sniper marksmanship. Maybe it was because he’d mastered more ways to kill a person than Garrus even knew existed. Or maybe it was just those eyes of his, unnaturally huge and dark and seemingly capable of peering into one’s very soul. His stare could be profoundly unsettling in its intensity.

Then again, Garrus supposed that if he were slowly dying, he wouldn’t take anything lightly, either.

It was time to stop dithering outside the door. This conversation needed to be had, and it was now or never. He hit the door controls and strode purposefully into Life Support.

Thane started, apparently jarred out of his meditations or whatever he was doing. “Sere Vakarian,” he said with some surprise.

“Krios,” Garrus replied curtly. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, his stomach tying itself in knots, his confidence evaporating. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, almost hopefully.

But the drell wasn’t going to give him an out. “Perhaps, but the distraction is welcome.” Thane gestured gracefully to the chair across the table from where he sat. “Please.”

Maybe that was why he felt so uneasy around this guy. Ten or twelve years Garrus’s senior, Thane’s easy grace and soft-spoken serenity made the turian feel awkward, brash, and loud by comparison. He sat, avoiding Thane’s penetrating stare as he gathered his thoughts, all too conscious of the expanding silence as he fumbled for words. “I… well, it’s about you and Shepard,” he stammered finally.

Thane’s eyed widened briefly and he nodded. “Ah. You wish to inquire as to my intentions with the commander.”

Mandibles flicking sheepishly, Garrus fixed his own gaze on the tabletop. “I wasn’t going to put it quite that way… but, uh, yeah.”

“You care for her,” Thane observed quietly.

For some reason, that struck a nerve. Garrus did make eye contact this time, fixing the drell with a glare he knew was made all the more menacing by the devastating scars on the side of his face. “Damn right I do,” he growled. Pushing away from the table, he began to pace. “Look, Krios, I’ve known Shepard longer than just about anyone else on this crew. We took down Saren and Sovereign together. I realized fairly early on that my feelings for her were… let’s just say, more than friendly.” He stopped and rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly, I was too nervous to say anything. I didn’t want to mess up what we did have. And besides, a human and a turian? How much could we possibly have in common?” He sighed heavily, the brief burst of indignation fading into something like regret. “Turns out, quite a bit. But by the time I figured that out, it was too late. She and Kaidan were already… together.”

Thane frowned. “Kaidan?”

“She’s never mentioned him?” Garrus asked, surprised. “I would’ve thought… well, after the way he treated her when we ran into him on Horizon—that was before you joined us—I can see why she wouldn’t want to talk about it. Kaidan Alenko was on the SR-1 team, too. He’s still with the Alliance, and when he found out about this… arrangement Shepard has with Cerberus, he made it _very_ clear that it was over between them.” His hands balled into fists and he scowled. “And I swore that the next person to put that look on her face would pay. Dearly.”

“A noble goal, indeed,” Thane replied with an approving nod.

He wasn’t getting it—probably on purpose. “Yeah, well. Anyway, it looks like I’m too late this time, too,” Garrus bit out icily. “She’s made her choice, though, and I’ll respect that.” He stepped forward to tower over the other man, letting his subvocals color his next words with menace. “But I swear, Krios, if you break her heart—”

Completely unfazed, Thane stood and placed a hand on Garrus’s shoulder. “Then I would be far more afraid of her than of you, Sere Vakarian.”

Garrus froze, the beginning of a threatening gesture hanging in midair, as Thane gazed back levelly with brow ridge raised. A hint of amusement danced in those big, dark eyes. _Did he just…?_

But, Spirits, he was right. Shepard wasn’t the type to go cry in a corner, nursing her wounds when she was hurt. She didn’t get sad, she got angry—and when she got angry, she struck back, swiftly and mercilessly. Whether or not she wanted them to, she didn’t actually _need_ either one of them to protect her, physically or emotionally. All at once, Garrus felt silly for feeling the need to confront Thane about this at all. The damned drell had figured out in a matter of months what had taken Garrus almost three years to consciously realize. _Now who’s oblivious?_

The whole situation was suddenly so absurd that Garrus had to laugh out loud. Clapping Thane on the back, he said, “You know what, Krios? You’re all right.”

Thane staggered and coughed from the blow, a look of distress crossing his face briefly before he recovered himself. “Thank you. I think.”

Garrus eyed him critically. His visor had registered a sudden uptick in the other man’s heart rate, a sign of fear in species across the galaxy that not even the most stoic of faces could suppress. “You okay?”

“Mm.” Thane turned away with a noncommittal rumble, and now it was he who was avoiding eye contact. He clasped his hands behind his back, his posture rigid and tense.  “I would never do anything to intentionally cause Shepard pain. I… I love her.” The confession seemed to come with difficulty, strain evident in his voice. “But if she feels the same for me, I fear my condition will soon leave me little choice in the matter.”

Garrus gaped at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious. _That’s_ what you’re worried about?”

“Of course.” The drell aimed a puzzled frown back over his shoulder, remaining otherwise perfectly still. “Shepard’s well-being concerns me greatly.”

“Spirits, Krios, that’s not what I meant!” Garrus growled, exasperated. “How can you be so cavalier about… well, dying?”

“Cavalier?” Thane turned to face Garrus fully, his brow deeply furrowed. “You misunderstand me, my friend. I have had many years to come to terms with my mortality. My soul is prepared to cross the sea, and my body is ready to go to its rest.”

And just like that, understanding dawned. “That’s crap, Thane, and you know it.” Garrus folded his arms as anger flashed in the other man’s eyes, its intensity confirming his suspicions. “I may not have your breadth of experience, but I spent enough time in C-Sec to know when someone’s lying to me.” Then more gently, he added, “And when he’s lying to himself.”

Thane looked stricken.

Garrus could see the truth of those words crashing over him like a wave; watched as the impact almost physically staggered him. He realized, too late, that he was witnessing the collapse of a carefully constructed illusion: a shield made of lies so often repeated they had nearly become true, told with the express purpose of maintaining sanity in the face of what had to be overwhelming despair. And now shattered by a few thoughtless words. Had nobody ever seen through it before?

More likely, no one had ever been cruel enough to say anything before. “Thane, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… to…”

“No, you’re right.” Thane’s voice was rough, haunted, as he turned away again. He went to the room’s large window and placed one hand on the glass, staring out at the pulsating light of the drive core. Not a tall man to begin with, he looked even smaller silhouetted against it. “It only took the perspective of another for me to realize it. I should thank you.”

Garrus blinked in surprise. “Thank me?”

“For opening my eyes.” Thane bowed his head. Garrus thought he might actually be trembling, but in the unsteady light, he couldn’t be sure. “There would have been no true peace in my self-deception. It would have been stripped away in my final moments, leaving me to depart this world in agony and terror. You have spared me that, at least.”

Garrus’s breath stilled in his throat. “What… will you do now?” he asked helplessly.

“The only thing I can, in what time remains to me.” Thane turned back around to look Garrus in the eyes, his own wide, fearful—and determined. “Begin again.”


End file.
